Department Store
by 2spiffy
Summary: There's really no way to explain this. But, yeah, Stiles works at a perfume counter, and yeah.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm slightly ashamed of this, and kinda disappointed in it. I may end up making it more than a one shot, just so there is more of a story to it, since the ending isn't really satisfying at all. Oh well, whatever. I imagine Derek to be about 22ish in this, Stiles is 18. It's AU, obvi. (I've been wanting to say obvi for a while now, so fuck yeah) and yeah...**

"Oh good, you see him too."

I'm startled from my oogling by Lydia, who has strutted over from the make up counter, and is now staring intently at the women's section right across from my counter.

"Who? Him?" I feign confusion to annoy her.

"Don't ask me who. Mr. Delicious over there." She nods in an appreciative way. "You should go talk to him." This is followed by her signature head tilt.

"He's so out of my league, and besides, he might not even be gay! He could be shopping for his girlfriend!"

"No. No girlfriend, sister. He isn't gay, bi most likely. Single. Now go." She shoots this off as if it's common knowledge. I don't bother asking her what makes her say that. I've known her far to long.

In fact, we've known each other since third grade, when I was hopelessly in love with her. It wasn't until high school, when she started dating Jackson and I realized I didn't like her but her taste in guys, that we became friends. I even became friends with Jackson once he realized I wasn't going anywhere, and that my gayness saved him from doing boring things like shopping.

She pushes me from behind the counter, slapping a bottle of perfume in my hand, before strutting back to hers to help a customer. I shake my head at her retreating form before tentatively approaching the man before me. The closer I get, the more I can see he is way to hot for me. I'm just an average looking guy, and he's a god. My fingers ache to run over his chest, down his stomach...to brush the stubble on his chin..."Um." I stutter, coughing awkwardly. He turns to look at me, giving me a cold look.

"I don't need any help."

I'm a bit put off by his hostility, but I'm nothing if not persistent. "Are you sure? Because I've been watching you look at the same shirt for 20 minutes." I joke, but he doesn't seem to take it as that.

"I'm fine."

"Look, buying clothes for a girl is impossible. Trust me, I know. You'd be better off just coming with me to the perfume counter. You can't go wrong with perfume."

"No." He turns away from me, looking, once again, at the shirt before him.

"Do you even know what size your girlfriend is?" I cross my fingers he corrects me on the girlfriend.

"It's my sister, and no." He sighs in defeat.

"I knew it!" I crow. "There's no way you're buying clothes if you don't know what size to buy!" I pretend to forget that returning something is, in fact, possible.

He grumbles something that sounds like fine. A very angry fine, but a fine none the less.

"Come on Grumpy." I lead him over to my counter before fishing for some bottles. "How old is your sister?" I ask, pretending it's relevant, but really only trying to learn more about him.

"27."

"Older or younger?"

"Older."

"You sure are a conversationalist, aren't you?"

He frowns, and I struggle to find a way to loosen him up. Lydia is watching us with eyes like a hawk, no doubt waiting for me to screw up. Her face is clearly demanding I do something, Grumpy turns to see where I'm looking.

"Who's that?"

"Lydia. She's got a boyfriend." I spit before I can help it. Grumpy glances at me curiously.

"Why is she watching us?"

"Probably because you look like a god."

I swear to god I need a filter. Grumpy stares at me in what appears to be the closest he has ever come to shock. I see no way of diffusing the situation, so, without thinking about it, I spray him with the perfume I'm holding. The hiss of the bottle is loud, and I'm sure my face is horrified at what I've just done. We sit in silence as the scent of lilacs and lemon wafts around us. I curse myself for being so stupid, and I'm just about to apologize when Grumpy reaches out, picks up a bottle, and, in one swift motion, sprays me in retaliation. He smirks at my still frozen face before plucking the bottle out of my hand.

"My sister isn't really a perfume person, but thanks." He sets the bottles back on the counter, turns, and walks away.

"Have a nice day!" I call, my store reflexes kicking in.

He turns, eyebrow cocked, before stepping out into the afternoon sunlight, leaving my drooling.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here is chapter two as requested, sorta. I'm going to try and continue this as much as I can. I have a slight idea of where it can go and what can happen, so hopefully I will keep it up. And hopefully you like this chapter, who knows, it could suck. Anyway, enjoy :3**

"He's back."

I glance up, as if I hadn't been staring in the first place, at Lydia. She's sauntered over from her counter, which is surrounded by customers who are looking angrier by the minute. Not that it matters what she does, it's not like she's going to get fired, considering her darling father owns the place.

"Who?" I glance around in what I consider a comical way.

"The hot guy idiot, don't act like you haven't seen him. I wonder why though."

"Maybe it was something I said." I'm willing to give myself the benefit of the doubt.

"Please, you'd be lucky if he even listened to half of your rambling."

"Maybe he thinks I'm cute, and he's come to marvel at so out of his league I am." I, once again, attempt to put myself in a better light.

"His ass it cuter than you are. Add on his abs and that face, and you're lucky you even got to talk to him. That's definitely not what brought him back."

"Well what do you think?" I huff. I'm tired of this shoot Stiles down game.

"Maybe he found you endearing, because, trust me, there was nothing you did or said yesterday that would be considered cute. You should go talk to him."

I barely have time to respond before she's slipped away, back to her counter and her angry customers.

I groan, unable to keep myself from sliding from behind the counter to where mystery man is.

"Didn't we cover this yesterday? Clothes are never a good present for girls."

No response. Great. We're back to square one.

"Did your sister like the perfume?"

"No."

"Well, probably because half of it was missing, thanks for that by the way." I snap sarcastically. Though I was the one who sprayed him first, and it hardly took half the bottle.

He turns to give me a death stare. "That was your fault, and she didn't like it because she doesn't like the way it smells."

"Well what's wrong with it? To strong, not strong enough? To fruity? What? This is kinda my specialty."

"You're specialty?" He snorts.

"Yep, that's me. Perfume specialist for this lovely establishment, though, to let you in on a little secret, I have no idea what I'm doing." I stage whisper.

"You have no idea what you're doing, and yet you expect me to let you help?" He cocks an eyebrow.

"Trust me, it'll work better then you trying to pick out a top."

He eyes the shirt he's holding, before sighing and tossing it down. It appears he has done this with multiple shirts, considering the stat the table is in. Not a single one of the nicely displayed shirts are folded anymore. Isaac will have a cow when he sees it, considering it's his job to set everything up, and he can barely stand it when ONE of his precious shirts is out of place, let alone ALL of them.

"You've made a mess." I tsk, gesturing to the shirts.

He glares at me, yet again, and I decide I should start keeping tally of how many times I get that look.

Two so far.

I'm on a roll.

We both walk over to he counter, he slightly ahead of me. It's like he's making a point not to be associated with me. I don't mind. I'm enjoying the view.

Lydia was right about his ass.

He has one fine ass.

It slightly depresses me, because even his ass is out of my league.

"Are you coming?" He growls, turning around to watch me.

"Calm down Grumpy Gills."

"Don't call me that."

"What should I call you then?" I counter.

He sighs in what sounds like defeat. "Derek."

"Derek." I repeat. Just to feel the name roll off of my tongue. He seems to get that, rolling his eyes at me in a way that screams I deal with this every day.

"I'm Stiles."

Death glare. "I know. You have a name tag."

Look at that, three. Shall we try for a fourth?

"I didn't think you would be interested enough to look." I flirt.

Death glare.

Bam, four. I'm getting good at this.

"Just give me some perfume and let me go." He huffs.

"Alright, alright. Try this." I reach out and grab a box.

He glances at it before nodding. "She better like it."

"If she doesn't, you can always come back."

"If she doesn't, I'm finding another perfume specialist." He smirks at my hurt look, before striding away.

"Bye Derek!" I call in a sing song voice.

He turns annnnnd….

Death glare.

Five in one day.

Right before he turns, I can see the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Interesting.

Let the games begin.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yay for another chapter! No Lydia in this one, but Isaac makes an appearance! :3 lol**

"It didn't work."

"Excuse me?"

"The perfume. It didn't work. She didn't like it."

"Ah, Derek, it's good to see you. Now, what's all this about a perfume not working?"

I have to force myself to keep a straight face at the look he's giving me. It's a mixture of hate, annoyance, and some amusement.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. The perfume you were so sure would work? Didn't." He crosses his arms, aiming an accusatory look at me.

"Hey! It's not my fault your sister is so picky. Jeez. You much really love her. You're trying awfully hard to impress her." I say it lightly, so he understands I'm joking. I actually find it quite attractive. He obviously cares about his family, and coming from a pretty close family myself (I mean, how can we not be, considering it's only my dad and me) it's almost better than his abs.

"She's all I have." He says it softly, like it's a secret. Meant for me and him and no one else.

I glance up to see his glare replaced by an intense look, as if he's willing me to understand.

"Well then, I guess you better keep looking for that perfect perfume." I wink, and he almost grins. Almost.

He reaches out, grabbing a bottle before tentatively sniffing it. Instantly he gags, tossing it back onto the counter where it makes a loud clatter. A few people turn to look, and I wave apologetically.

"Ok. So we don't like that one." I laugh, shaking my head.

He huffs.

"You know, you're acting like a child. I'm honestly considering giving you a time out." I poke my tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes.

"You're sticking your tongue out at me, and I'M the child?"

He cocks an eyebrow and I can't help but think it is definitely one of his sexier faces.

"Remember, I'm the one helping you please your sister."

"I wouldn't say helping."

"What's that suppose to mean Mr. Derek?" I place a hand over my heart and feign shock.

"I'll take this one."

He grabs a bottle, turns, and walks away.

"But you didn't answer my question!" I call, secretly begging him to come back.

He doesn't.

He does, however, flip me off.

"I think he might be warming up to you."

"Oh, Isaac, hey. You scared me." I smile at the boy in front of me, who's bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Yeah. Sorry. Is that the guy who ruined my shirts?" He looks as if he wants to be offended, but it's Isaac, and he can never be angry for long.

"Yeah. That's the one." I sigh.

"He's been here a lot lately. Who is he?"

"Derek."

"Why does he keep buying perfume?"

"Hell if I know. He says its for his sister."

He nods, watching Derek with me for a minute. "Well, I better go. I think someone might be messing with a display."

"Really? Someone's messing with a display? In a department store? Shocking."

"Shut up." He gives me one last friendly shove before trotting off to protect his precious displays.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Yay! Another chapter. If you don't like it, screw you. If you do, good. xD Anyway enjoy, I really have no idea where this is going to go, so the end is just kinda...random..:3**

"Derek!" I call, spotting him before he spots me.

"Do you ever get a break?" He snorts at the sight of me.

"If I did, you wouldn't come around nearly as often."

He snorts again, but doesn't deny it, and I can't help but feel oddly elated at that.

"Where's your friend?" He asks, glancing over at the make-up counter where Lydia usually stands.

"Who says she's my friend?" I counter, having no idea where the pleasantly bitchy girl is.

"Isaac seems to think you are." He smirks at my confusion.

"Since when have you talked to Isaac?" I question, leaning my elbows on the counter.

"He attacked me for messing up his shirts."

"That's Isaac alright. Precious guy is anal about those shirts." I chuckle. "But how did that lead to me?"

"Don't ask me. The minute he looked at me, he started rattling off all this information about you. He assumed we knew each other." He grumbles.

"Well, I assumed we knew each other." I can't help but say, which earns me a glare.

"We don't."

"Harsh." I mock. "But, we kinda do?"

"No. We don't."

"I know you're Derek, and if I'm guessing right, you're probably Derek Hale."

He narrows his eyes at me.

"I did my research." I chirp in response.

"So what, you know my name. That doesn't prove anything."

"It doesn't? Well good thing I wasn't done."

He raises an eyebrow, and nods for me to continue.

"You have an older sister, one who obviously isn't a perfume person. She's all you have."

He grimaces.

"You're 24 years old. You've lived here all of your life." I trail off.

He remains silent, but when I remain silent as well, speaks. "Is that all?"

"For now, yeah." I nod.

"So what? You Googled me. It's hardly complicated. That doesn't mean you know me, and even if it did, I don't know you."

He sounds so damn smug and triumphant. I can hear the smirk in his voice, as well as see it plainly on his face.

"Fine, fine." I smirk back. "You don't know me. But boy do I know you."

He seems almost scandalized.

"You don't know anything."

"I think I just proved that wrong."

I can practically see his anger, pouring out of his ears like steam in a cartoon.

"It doesn't matter if you know me, or if you don't, because I have no desire to get to know you."

"Then why have you come back for perfume three days in a row? I'm sure it's not that important, and if it is, you can always go somewhere else." It's my turn to raise an eyebrow and I anxiously await his response.

"It's easier to come here."

"I'm calling bullshit. There are at least twenty department stores around here. And you can always shop online."

His eyes once again narrow, as if he's sizing me up. I can't say I don't like it.

"Maybe I wanted to complain about the shitty service you've been providing me."

"Please, if you had complained, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. They'd have my ass in another department."

"Maybe I've just given you another chance."

"Well that would insinuate you enjoy my shitty service. Or maybe it's my shitty company you've enjoyed?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

We're at a standstill, though I'm starting to count his lack of argument as a win for me. After a few more minutes of staring and mumbling on his part, I grow slightly uncomfortable.

"I'm not trying to rush you or anything, because this angry silence is really great, but do you need something?"

He stares me down. "No."

"No?"

"No."

"Okkkaay." I stretch it out, curiously waiting for some elaboration.

"I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go to dinner sometime."

My eyes practically pop out of my head. Because, lets be honest, I was not expecting that.

"Woah, we've only been acquainted three days, and you're already making a move." I feign surprise. "We don't even know each other, of course, dinner would be a great way to get to know each other, but you just said you didn't want to know me. What in the world do you want from me?"

He glares at me, not even bothering to look embarrassed. "Is that a no?"

"A no? Hell no. Of course I'll go to dinner. Who am I to pass up a free meal?" I poke my tongue out at him.

He smiles. Kinda.

"Pick me up here, tonight, at 7."

He sighs at my bossiness,but doesn't complain, only silently nods and heads on his way.

Behind me, Lydia, who had heard everything, snorts.

"Now that's what I call a miracle."


End file.
